Wedding Night
by sqbr
Summary: Chizuru and Chikage somehow manage to navigate their wedding night despite both being incapable of asking for what they really want. Based on the Kazama path from Edo Blossoms. Contains relatively mild rape roleplay.


Chizuru had spent years trying desperately to avoid this situation, and yet here she was, at the mercy of Kazama Chikage. He'd pushed her against the wall and was kissing his way down her neck, each touch of his lips making the skin beneath them shiver. His hand on her side and the inescapable pressure of his hips was the only thing stopping her from sliding to the floor.

Although he was only "Chikage" now. He'd insisted, and anyway there was no way to think of him as "Kazama" now that she was surrounded by a whole village of people who all bore that name. The village of which he was lord, and in which she was now entirely subject to his control.

Part of her thought should be afraid, or self conscious. She had feared this for so long, so sure that he was a cruel, heartless man who would not hesitate to mistreat her once he had her in his clutches. And he _could_ be cruel, and cold, there was no guarantee even now that she was entirely safe with him. But he could also be kind, and loyal, and right now her mind was a whirl of sensation and longing that drowned out thought of anything else. Ever since their first kiss, every touch from him set her on fire. And even before that, even when he had been her enemy, there had been a part of her that had wanted him, had wanted _this_.

He shifted his hand to cup her breast and she groaned- not a gentle gasp but something loud and guttural. She became overcome with embarrassment. What must he think of her? Would he mock her for being so coarse? It was right that she should express _some_ enthusiasm, but how much was too much? She didn't want to appear shameless. And she didn't want to admit defeat, to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes when she provided such evidence of his power over her. But then he moved his hands again and she couldn't keep herself silent, her desire and self consciousness combining into a weak and breathy "No".

His movements immediately stopped and she heard him hiss in a breath. Chizuru looked up and saw an expression of shock and worry flicker over Chikage's face before being replaced with something more typically guarded. He stayed very still. "Have I overwhelmed you?" he asked.

She couldn't answer. Instead she shook her head, blushing, and then laughed awkwardly. "I don't know why I said that," she said. "I just want..."

"Want me to despoil you?" he said, his voice a low growl that made her shiver. "Want me to perform untold obscenities upon you, until you are left sated and sore, only for me to despoil you again?"

This time her "No!" was a laugh instead of a groan. The appalling things he said were much more bearable if you laughed at them, and at least some of the time she was sure he was deliberately provoking her to make her smile. But how could she say yes to something like _that_?

"By which you mean yes," he said, and a sly smile slowly came over his face. He looked like a child who'd been handed a new toy. "I see, I am to ignore your objections going forward then." He chuckled smugly and she couldn't even pretend to find it obnoxious. "Not that I would have paid them any mind regardless."

"Mmmm," said Chizuru. She'd always been amused and frustrated by Chikage's difficulties expressing sincere affection, but sometimes she had her own troubles being honest with him. Not that he made it easy.

He ran his hand gently down her cheek. "You know you are are playing with fire," he said. She felt a thrill of fear and heat to realise what he meant: if she used _no_ to mean _yes_ then how would he know if she ever really _did_ want to say no? Yet somehow she trusted him to stop, if ever it was what she really wanted. She'd trusted him with so much else already.

"I know," she said.

He leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "Then I will do my best not to burn you."

"Thank you," she said softly. He left a gentle kiss on her shoulder, and started touching her again, more gently this time. She reached up and put her fingers in his hair. It was thick but soft, and she could feel a faint oiliness against her fingers, not the grease of being unwashed but something clean and light. She realised the locks of his hair were sitting smooth against his head instead of sticking out at all angles as usual, and felt warm knowing he had put extra effort into his appearance for today, even if it was as much for his family's sake as her own.

Her own appearance she felt less sure of. During the ceremony she'd been layered in stiff fabric covered in embroidery, and worn a richly decorated "horn covering" hat, it's meaning a little more literal for demonkind. Had she looked out of place in all that finery? Had the clan resented having to provide so much for an outsider who knew so little of their customs? It seemed demons did not expect a new wife to provide much of a trousseau, which explained why her father had never put much effort into constructing one. But it was hard not to feel like a burden now that everything in her life was provided by the Kazama clan, from clothes to food to purpose. All she had to offer in return was the ability to bear children.

As if reading her thoughts Chikage ran his hands over her stomach...ah, no, he was simply trying to loosen her kosode, the smooth fabric held too tight under the obi for him to get much purchase. But of course he couldn't admit defeat, so he acted as if he had in fact only meant to caress her through the fabric. What a ridiculous, impossible man she had married.

"Soon this womb shall bear my heirs," he said, his voice rich with anticipation. "And perhaps even daughters. I hope you have prepared yourself." The words made her shiver and fill with a strange heat.

But _had_ she prepared herself? From all accounts demon pregnancies were much easier than the human ones she had assisted with in her father's clinic, but was she prepared to be a _mother_? It was obvious already that the Kazama clan desired as many children as she could bear, and would gladly help with the task of raising them. But what if she didn't like the way they expected her children to be raised? There must be some reason Chikage had ended up so harsh despite hiding a mostly decent spirit, and she did not want the same thing to happen to their children. Him she trusted to always be loving and supportive, in his own odd way, but the others she was less sure of. The Kazama clan had been incredibly welcoming, but would she remain welcome if she did not perform the role they expected of her?

"What if I am barren?" she asked, almost afraid to put it into words.

"That would be unfortunate," said Chikage, holding his hand flat against her stomach as if to ward against the possibility. "Do you have reason to think you might be?"

"No," said Chizuru. "But..." She thought of poor Kaoru, tortured by his supposed rescuers for being unable to bear children. Would the same thing happen to her?

"Then I see no reason to obsess over petty distractions," he said. "You are my _wife_ , not just the future bearer of my children. You have many other duties, as you are well aware."

That was certainly true. Chikage's mother was a friendly but terrifyingly efficient woman who was clearly the real power in the clan. Having learned about Chizuru's "unfortunate upbringing" she had brought it upon herself to teach Chizuru _everything_ there was to know about being a demon woman, and the wife of a lord in particular. There was a lot to take in, but Chizuru enjoyed having a sense of purpose, and was beginning to hope that she could become an accepted and useful member of her new clan.

For a long time the idea that Chikage had a life outside of tormenting her had seemed surreal. But here he was, with clan and friends and family, a whole village of people who he watched over and who respected him in return. He had not only a mother, but a father and five younger brothers, and numerous cousins and uncles and aunts. They tended to be variations on a similar stubborn, arrogant theme and while she got along with most of them individually she found being in the company of too many at once rather intense. Luckily, in contradiction to the expectations of filial piety, Chikage was inclined to take Chizuru's part against the rest of them, and she was slowly learning how to work with their moods the same way she had learned to work with his. They all seemed to be good people, underneath all the posturing, and there was a certain power to being the only person in the room with any ability at tact.

She was, somehow, happy here, in this beautiful village, newly made in the safe hiding place Chikage had found for his people. For her.

"I am glad I married you after all," she said.

"I am glad you finally saw reason," he replied, and she laughed.

And he was so beautiful. Strange and strong and delicate, like the fairy tale creature he was. His kosode was slipping off his shoulder a little, and she yearned to touch the skin that had been so revealed. Her fingers played at the bottom of his neck and she almost let herself drag them across the expanse of naked muscle just beyond her reach, but she couldn't quite gather the nerve.

What did he look like, under there? She'd seen men undressed before, but not Chikage. His colouring was paler than that of any of the Shinsengumi, and stranger than any human. As far as she could tell, she looked like any normal human woman- did he look like any normal human man?

Thinking about it brought up a memory of Nagakura pulling off his shirt to try and prove to Harada that he had the more perfect manly figure. At first they'd tried to rope in Chizuru as a judge but she'd refused, so they'd taken a vote amongst the others, and...

And now they were all dead, and she was thinking of them at a time like _this_. But...she thought of them at all times. Maybe eventually the pain would fade, but for now it was a regular ache that came and went at it's own schedule. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. There would be times un-numbered to mourn the Shinsengumi again in the future, to consider the tragic lives of her brother and father. She did not dishonour them by letting herself think of happy things, by putting them aside for one night to focus on Chikage and herself alone.

"Hmm?" said Chikage, "is something the matter?"

"No," said Chizuru. "Sorry. My thoughts...I felt sad for a moment. I feel better now."

He tutted at her. "I must not be keeping you busy enough," he said. "Touch me."

She felt herself colour, her hand still wavering on the edge of his shoulder. He moved his head to stare into her eyes, and then reached up to take hold of her hand in his. "Shall I force you, then?" he said, his voice cool. She should be outraged but instead she just felt a little embarrassed.

"That...that won't be necessary," said Chizuru. He let go of her hand and and she gathered her courage, skimming her fingers along the bones of his shoulder. He closed his eyes. He was enjoying it then? That should have helped, but it just made her feel more self conscious. She started patting him through the fabric of the kosode instead, the thin barrier between them making everything feel less immediate.

"I thought I ordered you to touch _me_ ," he said, darkly. Why was he so _awful_.

"Shut up," said Chizuru. "I'm new at this, and it's scary."

"You mean to imply that I am not?" he said, his voice filled with unexpected outrage. "That I have risked dishonour with a human or some other man's wife?" Oh. Was it only his fathomless self confidence that allowed him to be so bold? But then he added, "Though I suppose men are not so very different to women. And I am glad to see such evidence of your purity. I had wondered if it was safe to leave a treasure like yourself surrounded by so many men."

The reminder of her time with the Shinsengumi made her feel melancholy, and a little offended on their behalf. None of the men who'd known her true gender had ever gone beyond a little harmless flirting, and though she had had to politely fend off overtures from some of those who'd thought her a pretty young man, her refusals had always been accepted with good grace. The implication that Chikage had _not_ refused the overtures of other men was...intriguing, but not really surprising when she considered what life must be like for a young demon man without a wife. She doubted they had any equivalent of Shimabara.

"So this is your first time with a woman," she said. Women weren't supposed to feel any excitement at bedding a virgin, but there was a strange appeal to knowing he had never known any woman's body but her own.

"And yet," he said, running a fingernail down her chest, "I manage not to be timid. How strange. But I suppose I am a man, and you are only a woman. You cannot help but be weak and timorous."

 _That_ could not be allowed to stand. She glared at him and pointedly placed her hand on his chest. He smiled triumphantly: yes, he _had_ manipulated her, but she couldn't bring herself to mind too much. His skin was smooth and soft and hard with muscle. "You have hair!" she said. His pale colouring made it hard to see, but she could feel it against her fingertips.

"Many men do," said Chikage, trying not to look self conscious.

"I...I like it," said Chizuru. Extracting the words was like pulling teeth, but she didn't want Chikage to feel bad about himself. Assuming such a thing was possible. And she _did_ like it.

He smirked. "I have more further down."

She squealed and slapped him.

He grabbed her hand. "So you think you can strike me without punishment?"

"I don't see why not," she said. "You deserved it."

He let go of her hand and tilted his head at her "Then you deserve this," he said, his voice cold, and struck her on the cheek.

It was so light it barely counted as a slap, more of a tap. She sensed him watching her reaction: did he think she might like that? _Did_ she like that? She wasn't sure she did, and the idea of being slapped more forcefully just made her stomach clench in nausea.

"Um," she said.

"Hmm," said Chikage, as if making a note on some internal litany of Chizuru's perversions. Which he presumably was. He gave a long suffering sigh. "Well, it is your wedding night, I suppose I can be merciful."

"You are the height of generosity, my husband," she said, and was rewarded with a bright grin. The word _husband_ sent a thrill through her, and through him as well if she was any judge.

"I am," he said. "I could simply force myself upon you, as is my right, but instead I shall give you the pleasure your wanton nature clearly craves."

Chizuru made an inarticulate sound of protest. She was not _wanton_.

"Oh, she objects! So you do not enjoy this then," he said, skimming his hand up to tease against her breast and tweak at her nipple through the thin fabric.

She could only manage a self conscious _hmmph_ of breath. He took all the things she didn't want to admit about herself and said them so brazenly they became ridiculous, and lost their bite. She let herself luxuriate in the sensation of him touching her, but then she felt a twinge of pain along her back that made it hard to concentrate on much else.

"I am getting uncomfortable," she said. He seemed tireless, despite supporting her weight, but she could feel strain in muscles that were not used to holding this sort of position.

"So you wish me to take you to bed," he said. And before she could finish taking a breath to reply he lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her across the room. She felt the blood rushing to her head and the pressure of his shoulder against her chest as the long strides of his legs made his body shift back and forth. She didn't even remember her hair becoming unbound but now it hung around her, heavy and loose, making it hard to see when she lifted her head. But she knew where they were going: the soft looking bed she'd barely had time to observe when she'd entered the room before he'd pinned her to the wall.

Chikage placed her carefully on her stomach, resting her head on the pillow. Her hair was like a curtain, blocking out the light, and she felt very much at his mercy. He kneeled over her and she felt the hint of his weight on her legs before feeling a tug at her back as he began to undo her obi.

"This is really happening," she said. "I'm...we're _married_."

"It's a little late for regrets," he said, finally pulling the obi free.

"I didn't say I had any," she replied.

He rolled her over and they were once again face to face. He looked down at her, smiling, and she smiled back. He gently pulled aside the folds of the kosode, and she was naked in front of him. She shivered. Did he find her beautiful? She found him beautiful: the way his hair hung forward over his face, the light in his eyes as he openly looked her over, the shape of his body under the thin fabric of the kosode.

"You should be naked as well." The moment the words came out of her mouth she gasped at her own audacity. But he _should_.

"You are giving me orders now, are you?" said Chikage, with a sharp toothed smile. He leaned down and pinned her hands to the bed. "What makes you think you have the right to do that? You are entirely at my mercy."

"I-"

He kissed her until they were both breathless, the pressure of his hands on her wrists a counterpoint accentuating the whole. "You are so beautiful," he breathed. "I..." He rested his forehead against hers, and for a moment neither of them spoke. Then he let go of her wrists and sat back up.

"Come, then," he said. "Attend to me." He sat more solidly on his knees and then looked at her expectantly. What did he...oh, the cord around his kosode. She sat up to undo it, her legs still trapped under his knees.

"You could undo this yourself," she muttered.

"I could," he said. He was watching her with an expectant smile that made her a little nervous. It was strange to be so close to him at such an unusual angle, his face so far above her. She pulled the knot free. The cord fell to the bed and his kosode fell open.

Oh. _Oh_. She fell back to the bed in shock and covered her eyes.

"You did that on purpose," she said. She heard a laugh and slight rustle of fabric: had he taken it off completely? If she opened her eyes would he be entirely naked in front of her? She had known what that meant, of course she'd known, but she hadn't realised how it would feel. He _had_ just looked like a normal naked human man, but she wasn't used to having a naked man _quite so close to her face_.

"Look at me," he said.

"No," she replied. She felt his hand on top of hers lifting gently at her fingers. She sighed and let him move her hands out of the way.

He was entirely naked. He'd been telling the truth about the hair. She felt her face go pink. "I see my magnificence overwhelms you," he said. "Understandable. And innocent reticence is very attractive in a woman. Fine. You may close your eyes if you wish." It was possible her entire body had gone pink. She supposed it _was_ innocent reticence or at least...the reticence of unfamiliarity. She didn't feel especially innocent at this point.

He ran his hand gently across her neck and she closed her eyes. He didn't speak, there was no sound or light only the sensation of his hands and then- oh. His lips. His lips and his hands on her breasts, her side, her stomach. Her breath began to come quicker, and she could feel his quicken as well.

And then his fingers reached lower, circling around her navel, her thighs, and then inwards.

"No!" she gasped. "It's...I can't..."

His fingers stilled and she opened her eyes to the vision of Kazama Chikage looking up at her thoughtfully from between her naked thighs. It was delightful and obscene.

"No?" he said, moving the tip of one finger in a circle on the inside of her thigh. Did she actually want him to stop? There was something building inside her, hot and needy, and it seemed almost sacrilegious not to see this through to the end. But she was ashamed of how much she wanted it, afraid to put a name to the hunger inside herself. She couldn't put any of it into words. Anyway, he seemed to be enjoying this strange game they were playing, and she had to admit that she was as well. So instead she gave him a small, shy smile, the sort you might give someone who you'd just told an embarrassing secret. He smiled back.

"You cannot keep me from what is mine," he said, but his voice cracked a little and went soft. He ran his finger up her thigh until there was no more thigh to touch. His face was flushed, and he bit his lip absently as he stared at her. It was impossible, unbearable, to be so _seen_. His fingers moved over her, _inside_ her, and she had to put her hand over her mouth not to moan. She hadn't known she could _feel_ such pleasure.

And then, somehow, it went from amazing to too much: he'd hit the wrong angle or her nerves had become frayed, what had been pleasure now an uncomfortableness verging on pain. "Oh," she said. She wasn't sure if she should complain, if it was fair to go hot and cold so quickly.

He didn't notice at once, too entranced with her body to pick up on her mood. She felt very stupid, and shifted her legs to try to get more comfortable.

He looked up at her again and this time she gave a small shake of her head. He removed his fingers from her body, but seemed a little confused, so she said "I am just...it became a little uncomfortable. Can you come up here?"

He frowned. "I see I will have to make you show me how you prefer to be touched," he said. _Show_ him? Oh, what a terrifying and dizzying thought. She was glad he wasn't insisting on it now.

Instead he pulled himself up next to her, so that his stomach rested against her side. She turned to face him and put her hand on his arm. He felt so warm and good and she desperately wanted to touch him more. And so she did, feeling the thick muscles of his back, the fuzz along his thighs, the bump of a mole on his otherwise smooth and unblemished skin. His body was hers now, to explore and touch and love. She looked forward to learning every inch of it as well as she knew her own. He smiled, and touched her in return, brushing gently across her back, running his fingernails across her waist and squeezing at her hips.

He moved one hand to her jaw, his thumb sitting on top of her lips. "See how your body craves to be taken," he said, looking impossibly pleased with himself. With a horrified gasp she realised exactly what she was smelling, and he took the opportunity to push in his thumb, so that she could taste herself. It was not a very pleasant taste, and having it forced upon her was degrading...but also strangely intimate, like a secret shared between them. She let her tongue slide along the flesh of his thumb and Chikage's eyes widened. He seemed surprised at her daring, but not unhappily so. He moved his hand to her neck and pulled her to him in a kiss.

She could feel his naked body against hers, their skin slick with sweat, his heartbeat fast and steady. She took note of this feeling: their first night together, the end of so many years of conflict and longing. As their passion grew she felt him pushing against her hip, and could not help pushing back in return. She thought she might explode.

"Are you ready?" he said.

"Yes," she said, too desperate for artifice, too overcome to stop herself from panting like some sort of wild beast.

He moved gently, positioning himself so as to tease at what was to come. Oh, how she wanted this. She had thought...had thought it would be like kissing, but the warmth that curdled through her when they kissed was like a candle flame to the inferno that roared through her now. She let out a gasp.

"Make all the noise you want," he said "You are mine...ah!" His damnable stamina meant he was far less out of breath than her, but his breath still caught, and there was an almost vulnerable expression on his face. She was reminded that he was not so very much older than her. She wondered if he was also a little afraid.

Heat built within her as their bodies moved together. She wanted to cry out, she wanted to _scream_ , but she couldn't, she just couldn't, so instead she hissed out a "No" between her teeth, barely able to stop her voice from turning into a whine.

He stilled, and looked at her, and it was like he was seeing inside her soul, like every layer of her had been stripped away to show the blood and mess inside. She held his gaze, and said "Chikage. Please."

He let out a rough groan and pushed down onto her, into her, he whispered obscenities into her ear and she couldn't even parse the words, or tell if she made any noise in reply. She grasped at him with hungry fingers, felt him shake and gasp. Everything built to an overwhelming pitch, and then her climax washed over her, spasms of pleasure travelling up her whole body and sending tingles across her skin. She cried out and she felt Chikage shudder, another shiver passing through her as she thought about the possibility of now being with his child. "Chizuru," he said, and then rested his head against her chest as it rose and fell with her fevered breath.

He rolled off her to lie beside her, and for a little while they simply lay next to each other, breathing. She began to feel cold, and missed his touch, so she rolled over to rest herself against him. "I love you," she said, because she did. She heard him make a strange noise, soft and inarticulate.

She rolled her head to look at him and his face was flushed, and he looked away. He opened his mouth to speak but apparently even the great demon lord Kazama Chikage had situations where words escaped him, and he just gave her a weak smile.

"It's alright," she said, leaving a small kiss on his chest. "I know."


End file.
